


Mercenaries Are Just Plot Devices Anyway

by LiterallyThePresident



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: ? - Freeform, Big Damn Rescue, Idk you decide, M/M, Minor Violence, Mutual Pining, Pre-Relationship, i think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:53:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21544816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiterallyThePresident/pseuds/LiterallyThePresident
Summary: Something was taken from Crush, and he’ll stop at nothing to get it back
Relationships: Crush/Jimson (The Adventure Zone)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 21





	Mercenaries Are Just Plot Devices Anyway

Crush wasted little time when he arrived at his destination, barely pausing to sweep the abandoned mine before striding into the shadowed entrance with a menacing gait that would make any smart person scramble to get out of his way. He was a fearless villain, known far and wide for his dastardly deeds and infamous ferocity in battle. And right now, he was angry. An understatement, as the word angry didn’t even begin to describe the boiling fury roaring in his blood and pounding in his head. The mercenaries who had made him feel this way had a storm coming, and not a single one of them was going to escape his wrath. It didn’t matter that they didn’t know who he was, that they were just hunting contracts, that they were just looking to get paid. None of it mattered to Crush. All he could think about was the blinding fury making his hands tremble and his every breath hiss.

Their lives didn’t matter. They had stolen something that belonged to him, and now they would die for it.

The mercs were strong; strong enough to give Crush trouble. But they were driven by fear, and he was driven by something far more powerful. It didn’t take long for their admirable resistance to end with blood spattering the walls and bodies littering the floor, Crush standing alone amidst the carnage with blasted pupils and bared teeth. Normally, villains tried not to actually kill anyone. But these mercs had forfeited their lives when they stole Crush’s treasure right out from under him, and he needed to make sure everyone knew it. He stepped forward towards a dying merc, growling low in his throat as the red didn’t fade from his vision. He gripped the merc by the throat, intending to rip and tear and vivisect-

A soft noise from the end of the room, breathless and low, and Crush’s attention snapped from the merc to a familiar figure lying bound on the ground at the far end of the cave. Crush’s breath quickened as he realized what it was,  _who_ it was. Finally, he had found it. His treasure, his goal, his  _prize_ . 

Jimson.

All battle frenzy draining away at the sight of him, Crush dropped the dying merc and darted over to kneel down before the prone human. With a gentleness belying his previous rage, he undid the binds around his limbs and carefully rubbed feeling back into them, taking note of the various bruises and wounds littering his dark skin and burning each of them into his memory with a lurching heart, to be agonized over later. Jimson shifted at the soft touch, and dark eyes fluttered weakly open to meet reptilian ones, hazy but clear and unconcussed, much to Crush’s relief.

“Who ...” Jimson’s voice was weak and hoarse. Crush would have taken issue with that if the sound of that melodious voice hadn’t filled him to full capacity with relief and affection. He smiled despite himself, all violence forgotten as he focused entirely on the man before him, unable to conceal his overwhelming relief at seeing him okay. 

“Hey, beautiful.” he murmured, brushing a dread aside to cup his face, taking in his warmth and the sensation of stubble against his scaled palms, “Surprise.”

“Crush...? What are you, ugh, doing here?” Jimson asked softly, wincing as he sat up. Crush helped him with a hand at his back, steadying him and fighting the urge to yank him close and never ever let him go back to that failure of a hero who had allowed this to happen. If that hero couldn’t protect his own sidekick, then they had no right to call themselves a hero. Crush would be writing a very strong letter to whoever was in charge about the incompetence they’d shown, how their sidekick had been rescued by the villain of all people while the hero searched in all the wrong places. It was almost enough to reignite the rage in Crush, if Jimson’s warm weight in his arms hadn’t been there to center him.

“Rescuing you, obviously.” Crush replied easily, “I’m sure you’d have torn them apart eventually, but I got sick of your hero dithering around uselessly while you languished in captivity, so I went ahead and found you.”

“Don’t be mean.” Jimson chided, but there was a smile tucked away at the the corner of his mouth, a smile that Crush desperately wanted to kiss out of it’s hiding spot until it bloomed across his face. Instead, he examined his head, searching for any unseen injuries.

“You hurt?” he asked, trying not to shiver at the way Jimson leaned into his touch with a soft sigh. 

“A few bruises and slashes, nothing more.” he murmured, resting his head on Crush’s shoulder, “They caught me by surprise. I didn’t think I was important enough to be targeted.”

“What did I tell you? You’re irresistible.” Crush grinned, and Jimson gave a quiet chuckle.

“So that’s why you came to save me?” he squeezed his forearm, “Which I haven’t thanked you for yet, please excuse my rudeness.”

“Hm, such rudeness, I may need to use this to extract a favor from you one day.” he teased, daring to lay a hand on Jimson’s back, his heart doing a little flip when the human seemed to relax at his touch.

“I suppose I brought this on myself.” he sighed with exaggerated resignation, a smile in his voice, “Alright, mighty villain, what favor do you require of me?” Crush could think of so many things to ask of him, so many ideas and desires that kept him awake into the long hours of the morning night after night. _Be my henchman_ , or perhaps  _kiss me_ , or even  _ditch your hero and let’s run away together and I’ll build you a house with my bare fucking hands and you’ll never want for anything ever again_ . But he would never place a weight like that on Jimson’s shoulders, no matter the cost. No matter how much it ached every time to watch Jimson walk away from him at that hero’s side.

If Jimson was his, then nothing would touch him. Nothing would  _dare_ . But he’d asked before, and Jimson had made it clear that he had no desire to be a villain’s henchman, however much he enjoyed Crush’s company, and Crush was not in the habit of forcing anyone. So he pined from afar, and maybe captured Jimson a little more often than was strictly necessary. But the amused glint in those brown eyes, the dimpled smile that he tried poorly to hide as they talked for hours waiting for the hero to come ‘rescue’ him, made it worth it every time.

“Eh, I don’t need anything.” he said dismissively, “Consider this a freebie from your favorite villain.”

“How kind of you.” Jimson laughed, “I knew there was a reason you’re my favorite.”

“Because I’m handsome and clever and oh so devilish?” he grinned, and Jimson snorted and buried his face deeper into Crush’s shoulder, electing not to respond, and Crush was hit with a sudden certainty that if he had lost this man today, he wasn’t certain he’d be able to handle it. If Jimson had died, then Crush might well have become one of those souls who turned genuinely evil in the face of loss and anguish. His embrace must have tightened, because brown eyes peeked curiously at him from his shoulder.

“Crush?” Jimson asked softly, and  _oh_ how Crush loved this man.

“I’m fine. Just... You’re safe.” Crush murmured, unable to resist pressing his nose into that dark hair, just for a moment, “You’re safe.”

“I’m safe.” Jimson echoed softly, his arms coming up to wrap around Crush’s torso like they belonged there, “You saved me.”

“I’ll always save you.” he said, little more than a whisper, but Jimson’s smile and the feather-light brush of lips against his frill showed that he had heard. The two men held each other on the cold ground of a dim hideout, basking in the silence and safety and the knowledge that there was no one around but them, that they could be just Jimson and Crush; two people of opposing sides, drawn inexorably to each other by a force brighter than a star, and stronger than gravity.

Jimson was safe in his arms, and Crush could finally breathe again. 

**Author's Note:**

> So uh... guess who is now obsessed with these two


End file.
